


Stolen

by Silverbrook123



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Depression, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I'll try to include as many characters as I can, M/M, Muder, Multi, Nightmares, Pain, Panic Attacks, Psychological Torture, Rape, Rape Recovery, Self-Harm, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:44:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2236191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverbrook123/pseuds/Silverbrook123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No, you don't understand, he's gone. Someone took him. Please, you have to help me find him."</p><p>After two years of suffering in captivity, John Egbert finds himself passed out on his best friend's front door. He's bloody, bettered, and utterly destroyed. However, with the help of his boyfriend, family, and friends, he'll slowly start to get better. All the while, they're trying to bring justice to John by finding, and killing, his kidnapper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Abduction

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my latest fic! I hope you all enjoy, and if you don't, don't hesitate to send me a comment so I can fix what I'm doing wrong. So, thanks for stopping by, tootles!
> 
> Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine unless mentioned.

“I am not my own, for I have been renewed. Please don’t let me go, I desperately need you!”

You smile softly as you hear your phone ring. The chorus of “Meteor Shower” by Owl City plays on repeat, informing you that your boyfriend, Karkat, is calling. You smile softly as you repeat that. Boyfriend. You wasted so many years ignoring your feelings for him. So many years of denying him…

Anyways! You still have a phone call to answer! You pull your new Galaxy S4 Active out of your hoodie pocket. Karkat had gotten it for you last Christmas. God, you can’t do anything without thinking about him, can you! You wave your hand over the phone, answering the call, and bring it up to your ear. Queue screaming male in 3…2…1…

“JOHN! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? YOU WERE SUPPOSED BE HOME A HOUR AGO!” Karkat screams in your ear. You pull your phone a little ways back, wincing at how loud he is.

“I’m on the way, Karkat! Vriska needed some help closing up the shop, and I offered. I’ll be home in a few minutes, promise!” you reply. You hear some mumbling on the other end of the line, but can’t really make out any of the words. Probably him just calling you an idiot (In an endearing way, you swear!)

“Alright then, you loser, and you better hurry up; I made dinner. Love you.”

You blush, “I love you too, Karkles. Be there in a few!” You hit the end button on the phone and place it back in your pocket. You smile to yourself, happy how far you’ve come in 5 years. When you first met Karkat, you had been with your best friend, Dave. Another mutual friend, as well as Dave’s girlfriend, Terezi had introduced you to each other. You thought he was pretty funny at first, with all his swearing and shit. It only took you 3 years to actually see that you were in love with him. Last year, the two of you moved into an apartment. Since then, the two of you have been happily in love, with only minor disputes here and there. The one thing that bugs you to no end is that Karkat always forgets to plug in his phone, so you can’t access him. Some days you think he does it on purpose just to get a rise out of you. You’re still contemplating everything Karkat does that irritates you, when you bump into someone.

“Oops, sorry mister, I didn’t see you there,” you say, rubbing the back of your neck. You look up at the man, and an instant chill runs down your spine. He’s tall, around 6’ 1” or so, although, compared to your size (5’ 4”) he seemed like a giant. And even though he was tall, he wasn’t so much in shape. He seemed at least 20 to 30 pounds overweight, and had a greasy sheen to his skin and dark brown hair. The thing that really threw you off, though, was the sickly sweet smile he had on his face framed by the limp pieces of hair surrounding it. It probably didn’t help that he wore all black, I mean, it was nearing 9 o’clock at night, he could get hit by something.

“That’s alright, sweetheart,” he smirked, “I wasn’t watching where I was going. In fact, I seem to be a tad lost, do you think you could show me how to get to the nearest gas station from her?” he asked.

Immediately, warning bells went off in your head. You start to remember all of the times your dad told you to never talk to strangers when you were younger. He would always say that the bad guys on TV aren’t like those in real life, and that the ones in real life can, and most likely will, hurt you. However, seeing as that was around twenty years ago, and that the nearest gas station was just down the block, you figured you could help him.

“Sure,” you replied warily, “the closest one is down the block that way,” you say pointing down the way you came. 

“Thank you, honey, I don’t think I could’ve found it without you,” he smiled. “Here, let me give you a little something for your troubles.”

At those words, you take a step back. A present? For what? All you did was send the guy in the right direction. You watch closely as the guy steps closer to you, and those warning bells from earlier start to chime louder than before.

“Really,” you plead, “that’s not necessary. I’m just helping a guy out, you know?”

“Sure, sure, but I think you’ll really like this present,” he says, taking another step closer to you and puts his hands on your shoulders. You really don’t like this now. A scowl starts to form on your face as you raise your arms to get him off of you.

“Hey, knock it off. Let go of me, you creep,” you yell, hoping to get the attention of any other person, but knowing that no one else is around. He ignores your request and starts to lean in closer to your face. “I said stop, asshole. Get the fuck of me. I have a boyfriend,” you yell again.

“A boyfriend, huh? Then a pretty little fag like you should enjoy this,” he sneered. Without another moment of hesitation, he presses his lips to yours, shoving his tongue forward. You close your eyes in disgust as his slimy tongue wiggles next to your lips. You raise your hands to push against his chest, trying to shove him off of you, but he forces you to back pedal towards a nearby ally. 

At this point, you start to panic. ‘Jesus Christ, this man could kill you, oh my God.’ You feel your back connect with the ally’s wall and wince in pain. You try again to push him off of you, but he manages to grab your hands, transferring them to one of his hands (God why am I so skinny) and uses the other to touch your midsection. He pulls his mouth off of yours and moves down to your neck, biting and sucking as he goes.

You start to make this breathy, wheezing sound, trying to get words to form when he speaks again. “Here’s how it’s going to go, sugar. You’re going to get down on your knees, and suck my cock. If you don’t there will be consequences. Got it?” he sneers. You nod in a daze, scared of what could happen. He pushes at the top of your head, forcing you down to the ground. Your knees smack hard against the concrete and you wince. You watch with utter disgust as the man moves his hands down to belt and unbuckle it. He moves to his zipper next, when a spark ignites in you. You can’t do this, this is cheating, and this is rape. You’re not about to let this happen. You wait for him to be more preoccupied when you strike.

You quickly yank your hands out of his grasp and put all of your force into pushing him in the crotch and stomach. You watch as he stumbles backwards in pain and surprise. This is your chance, go. You quickly get up and head for the entrance of the ally. 

“You fucking bitch, get back here!” you hear him scream. You hear the sound of him getting up and run faster. You reach the entrance and run to your right, towards your apartment. You take in a deep breath and prepare to scream for help when a hand wraps around your mouth and another snakes around your stomach. 

“You thought you could get away that easy, didn’t you, brat? No sir, Daddy’s gonna make sure you’re with me for a long time,” he wheezes, clearly out of breath. You fight back as hard as you can in his grip, especially when you feel the arm around your waist move away. However, as soon as the hand is gone, it’s back, but with a syringe, and it’s at your neck. 

The last thing you can think of before you pass out is how upset Karkat will be that you’re not home soon, and that you love him with all your heart.


	2. Karkat, I Found Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave finds a damaged John on his front door steps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if Dave seems really OOC (because he is), but I needed him to act this way for the sake of the story. Thanks for reading!  
> Disclaimer: None of Hussie's characters are mine, however my OCs are as well as the story line.

Your name is Dave Strider and it is way to fucking early for you to be awake right now.

You mean, for fuck’s sake, you had just gone to bed, sometime after three o’clock am, after finishing your gig at a local club called Wicked. Thinking back, you don’t remember a lot from that night…you must have had a few too many drinks…

Ding Dong…Ding Dong…Ding Dong…

Jesus Christ, now you remember why you’re up at nine o’clock am; some fucktard was ringing at your door. You stalk over to the door, quietly fuming. ‘Why would anyone be bothering me, all my friends know that I’m out late and to not call before noon.’ You start to think of possible candidates for this issue.

Rose? Nah, she’s probably at home writing tentacle wizard porn or some shit, you don’t really know. Jade? Not unless she made a surprise visit off of the island. Dirk? No, he was at the club with you; you had a rap battle midway through your set. Terezi? She should already be at the precinct by now with Latula. Well, if it’s not any of them, the only other person you could think of would be Karkat. Jesus, you were going to slap the shit out of him once you answered the door.

You walk up to the door and undo the main lock, yanking the door open.

“Karkat, I swear to whatever god there is that I will beat the shit out of you if you don’t-J-John?!”

Holy. Fucking. Shit. You cannot believe who’s in front of you right now. It’s John Egbert, you’re best pal. You mean, to most it wouldn’t seem all that weird, he’s your friend after all, but this kid was kidnapped two fucking years ago! 

Your friend is swaying in the doorway, and while your brain has seemed to frozen over, he slowly starts to tip over. Your brain then jumps to hyper drive mode as you run to catch him. Fuck, this kid is light weight. And pale. You slowly walk him into your apartment and get him seated on the couch where you can get a good look at him.

Like stated before, he was extremely skinny and pale. Now, Egbert was both of these things before, however, it looks like you could snap his wrist without breaking a sweat. And it’s like any color from his face is just gone. Looking closer at his arms, you see bruises, all various shades of black, purple, blue and yellow. You suddenly feel the urge to see if those bruises go in other areas and lean to lift up his shirt. As if some kind of spirit woke in John, he reared back from your hand and let out his high scream. 

“John! John, shit, it’s me, Dave. C’mon buddy, calm down it’s just me,” you frantically say to him. You throw off your shades, showing to him that it was indeed you. He starts to breathe heavily and quickly, and you back away from him, trying to give him some space. Once you’re a few feet away from him he visibly calms down and slows his breathing, however his body remains strung tight.

“John? John, it’s me, remember? It’s Dave, your best friend. There’s no need to be freaked out, I won’t hurt you man,” You relay to him after a few minutes of silence. He flinches at your words, scared as though they could hurt him. Shit, he’s really messed up right now. Fuck, how are going to deal with this. First off, you decide you need to get to the full extent of his injuries and see if he needs a doctor. 

“John, I’m going to come over to you. Is that okay?” you ask hesitantly. You wait a full three minutes before he gives you the smallest of nods. Okay, that’s a step in the right direction. You carefully make your way back over to him and stop a few inches shy of his knees. You slowly move into a comfortable squat, you the two of you could look each other in the eye. What you saw immediately almost broke your heart.

You hadn’t been able to notice because his eyes were closed before, but you finally get a look at the familiar eyes you’ve known since kindergarten. His usually shining, clear blue eyes looked dead. There was no hope anywhere to be seen in them, only a haunted, clouded look. You blink your own eyes a few times, trying to rid yourself of the oncoming tears, because now was not the time to be breaking down. Now was the time to figure out what happened.

“John? Do you remember me?” Nod.

“Do you know where you’ve been?” Shake.

“Are you okay? Do we need to go to the hospital?” Frantic shake.

“Do you remember what happened to you?” A shaky nod with a few tears to accompany with it. You reach up to wipe the tears away but stop yourself, remembering what happened last time you tried to touch him. Instead you look around, spotting the tissue box you have on the coffee table and grab a few before handing them to him instead. He hesitantly grabs them before using them quickly. Okay, time for the serious question.

“John, can I take your shirt off? I want to make sure that you’re okay there too.” He gives the beginning of a shake before nodding slowly. You give him a nod back before slowly moving your hands to the edge of his shirt and slowly moving it up until it bunches up under his armpits. What you see wants to make you throw up.

Like you already figured, there were many bruises, however on a much larger scale than on his arms. There were crescent shaped bite marks all around his chest, some just faded scars, and others brand new with scabs. Scratch marks were littered here and there throughout his stomach and chest. For fuck’s sake you could count the bones of his rib cage if you wanted to. The part that scared you the most, though, was the words. Different phrases and words were cut into his skin all over, some huge and some small.

“Daddy’s Boy”

”Little cock sucker”

”Faggot whore”

”I love cock” 

‘Holy. Fuck.’ You are in no shape or form to deal with something like this. You start to gag and quickly get up to run to the bathroom. Once getting there, you race over to the toilet before throwing up any and all contents in your stomach. God, you’re going to be sick. After taking a few deep breaths, you get up and drink a little bit of water before walking back to the living room. You see John in the same position as before, except with his shirt pushed back down and a fresh batch of tears in his eyes. You walk back over to him, kneeling in the same spot as before.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I just, uh, had to use the bathroom. Um, are you sure we don’t have to go to the hospital for your chest? It looks pretty bad, man,” you ask hesitantly. He quickly shakes his head no, and grips the fabric of the couch with all his might. Shit, how are you going to do this? Not only do you have to take care of him but you have to tell the others…

Oh. Shit.

You forgot all about Karkat. Karkat, John’s very own boyfriend. Karkat, the man who went absolutely berserk when he couldn’t find John. Karkat, the one who almost killed himself when the cops pronounced that he was most likely dead. You need to call him, and you need to call him now.

“John, hey buddy, I have to make a call to Karkat real quick, okay?” you tell him quietly. At the sound of Karkat’s name, his breathing starts to quicken again, and he starts to sob uncontrollably. Fuckfuckfuck fix this now. “Hey, hey, calm down, he won’t hurt you .But I have to call him, he really missed you, bud.” He continues to sob and starts to shake his head frantically, scared shitless by the thought of Karkat. You get up and sit on the edge of the couch next to him when he scurries away to the other side. You sigh and pull out your phone from your pocket and unlock it. John seems to have calmed down a little at this point, and you scroll through your contacts until you find Karkat’s. You hit the call button and hold it up to your ear as you slowly reach your hand out towards John. He gets the idea and hesitantly places his hand in yours, seeking out some form of comfort.

Ring

Ring

Ring

"Hello? What the fuck do you want, asshole? Shouldn’t you be in fucking lala land right now, dreaming about boning Skrillex?"

“Kar? It’s me. I found him.”

"What are you talking about? Found who? I swear, if this is just one of your ironic jokes, Strider, I’ll-"

“No, I found him. I found John.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and shot me a comment if you feel the need. Tootles!


	3. Help Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to see a little of how John feels about this situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this chapter is so short, but this is all that I could produce. I promise, longer and better chapters are coming soon!

Your name is John Egbert and you are absolutely terrified right now.

You’re not quite positive how you got here, the last thing you remember is him smiling and the lights going dim…. No! You’re not going to think about that, you don’t want to send yourself into a panic; or, at least, not into an even farther one. All you can concentrate on is the fact that a there is a soft, comforting hand surrounding yours, and that Karkat is coming.

Oh fuck.

You don’t remember what Karkat looks like, but you remember screaming for him. You remember him telling you that Karkat was never coming and that you were always going to be his. You definitely remember having to call him Karkat.

You remember Karkat as being someone very, very bad.

However, you remember Dave being someone trusted. You ran to Dave’s apartment after all. God only knows how you remembered how to get here. He never made you scream Dave’s name while he cut you or took you over and over and over…

You start to feel your breath quicken and the room suddenly become incredibly loud. You feel someone’s hands on your shoulders and immediately think of him and snap. You slam your fist into whoever is touching you and quickly move away from the area. There adrenalin in your body is at an all-time high, yet all you want to do is back into a corner. So you do so.

You walk backwards until you feel your small frame hit two conjoining walls and slowly move down until you’re seated on the floor. You can still hear the blood roaring in your ears as you bring your knees up, and touch your forehead to them. Silent, steaming tears start to pour down your face while you rock back and forth, trying to get the noises to stop. 

“..hn? John? Can you hear me, buddy? You gotta calm down, man, don’t worry. You’re safe now.”

Safe? How could you feel safe anymore? The man who kept you captive for who knows how long is missing, but is being replaced by the person who never came to save you. You’ll be lucky if you ever feel safe again. You continue to rock back and forth, begging no one in particular, just begging for it to all stop when you hear a sound that startles you out of anything. 

Knock…knock…knock…

You hear Dave open the door and invite someone, him, inside. God, you should’ve never come here, you should’ve realized that they all wanted to hurt you. You should’ve-

“John?” You hear a voice question. A voice you haven’t heard in what has felt like forever. A voice that sounds like home.

However, even with that in mind, it doesn’t stop you from screaming for help from him again.


	4. Fuck.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally get a look at how Karkat is handling everything, as well as a blast from the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...isn't this a Christmas miracle...
> 
> It's not Christmas anymore.
> 
> Anyway, Happy New Year, and I'm sorry I've been gone for several months. I swear, I didn't forget about this fic, it just took longer for me to get it out. Be grateful for my sister who has not stopped pestering me about it, she's the true MVP right now. So, please enjoy, and I'll try to post more often. Tootles!

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you are beyond belief right now.

You're currently standing a mere foot or two away from the one man you thought you had lost forever. However, you never imagined in a million years that you would find him like this, curled up on the ground in a mess of tears. And all you can do is stand there frozen in place. Maybe you should start from the beginning.

~~ Two years ago ~~

"Jesus Christ, how long does it take for John to walk here," you think to yourself annoyed. After all, you had called him over ten minutes ago, around 9pm, and the walk back over here only takes five minutes or so. You really hope he gets home soon, dinner was going to get cold pretty soon. 

*9:30pm*

"What the fuck, like, seriously. Where the fuck is John? It doesn't take this long to get back from the shop," you huff. This is fucking ridiculous. You wrap up dinner and put the leftovers in the fridge. You are going to rip him a new one when he gets home.

*10:15pm*

“John? Where the hell are you? Did something happen at the shop? Call me back, bye.”

*11:00pm*

“Hey, Vris. Yeah, I know its been a while, I’m sure we’ll hang out soon. No, no, not this weekend, but we’ll figure something out. Anyways, is John with you? I called him a while ago and he said he was on his way home, but he hasn’t gotten here yet. No? Yeah, okay, I’ll keep calling him. Don’t worry about it, I’ll see you later. Yep, bye.”

*11:27pm*

“John, you’re seriously starting to worry me here. Look, if you’re mad at me or something could you just tell me? We can talk it out and everything, I swear. Just...please call me back. I love you.”

*1:45am*

“911, what is your name and emergency?”

“Hello, yes, please, my name is Karkat Vantas and I need help.”

“What seems to be the problem, sir?”

“I think something happened to my boyfriend. I called him hours ago, when he said he was on his way home from work but he still isn’t back yet. He wouldn’t just skip out on me or anything, and we always call if something else came up. Please, I think something’s wrong. I think someone might’ve taken him.”

“Alright, sir, what is your boyfriend’s name?”

“John, John Egbert. Please, you have to help me.”

“I’m searching your databases, Mr. Vantas, but I’m not finding anyone under that name right now aside from normal, non emergency information. Are you sure he didn’t just go to a bar or somewhere else?”

“No, you don’t understand, he’s gone. Someone took him. Please, you have to help me.”

~~ A year and a half ago ~~

You are still Karkat Vantas and things are getting harder. It’s been six months since John disappeared and you have had no luck finding him. Vriska blames herself for making him close up that night, but you don’t blames her, not really.

You really just blame yourself.

Ever since that night, you’ve done everything to try to help find him again. You drove to the police station immediately once they opened that day and filed a missing persons report. After that, you started calling everyone. And when you say everyone, you mean it. You called countless friends, family and coworkers, asking all of them if they heard from or had seen John. They all put forth their best efforts to look for John, spending countless hours searching for him. Except it just wasn’t enough. 

No matter what you all did- hang posters, make TV announcements, questioned previous pedophiles, drive around town screaming his name- it didn’t work. It just didn’t work.

And it’s fucking destroying you.

Although many people think that you’re going overboard, you swear you’re not. Even if you’re lucky if you get three hours of sleep at any given point of the day. Or if you usually need to be reminded to eat something. Or if having fun is foreign to you now. You’re fine. You have to be. For John.

~~ 1 year ago ~~

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Mr. Vantas,” spoke the detective, “but the likelihood of Mr. Egbert surviving this long is slim to none. I think that it’s time to consider that fact that we may just be searching for a body now.”

No. This is literally not possible for you right now. You cannot think of John like this, you just can’t. You honestly don’t think you could bare it if John died, you have to think of him as alive and waiting to be rescued. Because if he died, then you’re convinced that you would die too.

*Three months later*

“Today’s top story, the hunt for John Egbert is no longer a rescue mission, but a body search instead. Mr. Egbert’s partner, Karkat Vantas, released a statement this morning, saying, ‘Please, please just give him back to me and his family. We deserve that much’. The poor man had to be pulled away by a small group of grieving friends, all asking that the request Mr. Vantas made possible. If anyone has any information on the whereabouts of John Egbert’s body may be, please call 1-800-525-6182.”

‘Well,’ you think, ‘I guess he really is gone.’ You’re eyes are puffy from crying all day, still greatly upset from the most recent news report. It hurts, it really does.

You sit up from lying on your couch all day and look to see what you laid out on the coffee table. Two bottles of vodka, a pill bottle full of antidepressants you found from high school, and a razor blade. You unscrew the first bottle of vodka and pop open the pill bottle. Pouring a small handful of them out, you glare at the pills as though they personally insulted your mother. You open your mouth and toss the pills in, taking a swig of vodka to wash them down. you repeat the process until you run out of pills and just start slamming vodka. You don’t notice the razor blade until you’re halfway through the second bottle, but when you do you don’t hesitate to roll up your sleeves and rake it across your skin. You give it a sad smile when you see the blood well up and spill out of the cut. You continue cutting away at your skin until the blood made the blade fall from your fingers and land on you carpet. 

‘At least I’ll be with you again, John. I’ll always, always love you.’

~~ Present day ~~

You shudder thinking about those last moments. After you woke up in the hospital a few days later, you vowed to get help. You swore to your friends that even though John wasn’t here, you would be. They didn’t deserve to lose another friend. But back to more pressing matters. 

Like the fact that John is screaming and crying while Dave is trying to calm him down. 

“John, please, your safe buddy, I swear. It’s just Karkat, he wouldn’t dare hurt you,” you hear Dave tell him. You somehow find it in yourself to move, albeit slowly, to where the other two are situated. Dave continues to try to sooth John, but it was having little effect. You kneel down next to Dave and put your hand down next to John’s bare clad foot. He recoiled, tucking himself away even smaller into the corner.

“John,” you whisper, removing your hand from his personal space and resting it in your lap. “John, please, it’s just me.” You try really hard not to dwell on his eyes. The once beautiful eyes you could stare into for hours are filled with fear and anxiety. You zone out for a moment, until you realize that John was actually talking. To whom, you’re not really sure.

“What? Can you please repeat that,” you hear Dave ask in a hushed tone, probably trying not to spook John. John whimpered a few more times before quietly speaking.

“Don’t hurt me. Please no more. I’ll be a good boy, I promise. Don’t hurt me, Daddy. Don’t hurt me Karkat. I’ll be a good boy, I’ll be a good boy, I’llbeagoodboyI’llbeagoodboyI’llbeagoodboy…”

John repeat the phrase over and over until he dissolves into tears once more. You look at Dave as he looks at you in utter disbelief. You could imagine that you were both thinking the same thing.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...comment, give some kudos, recommend it to all your friends so they can cry with you...Thanks for sticking around with me for so long!

**Author's Note:**

> So...? If you liked it, hit the subscribe button, I'll try to update as often as possible. If you didn't like it, send me a comment so I can fix whatever I'm doing wrong. Thanks!


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